Please Come Home For Christmas
by Chaos Dragon
Summary: It's just wrong that he's stuck home alone for Christmas, but Danny figures that the imp of the perverse has it out for him. DxS


_**Please Come Home for Christmas **_**is performed by The Eagles from the album **_**The Very Best of The Eagles**_**.**

**Yes, this is a songshot which I'm posting separate because it's my (apparently) annual Christmas themed fic. Happy Christmas, everybody.**

XXx

Please Come Home For Christmas

**Bells will be ringing this sad, sad news  
Oh, what a Christmas to have the blues**

**My baby's gone, I have no friends  
To wish me greetings once again**

"You'll be alright by yourself?" Maddie asked him.

Danny sighed for at least the thousandth time. "I'll be fine, Mom. It's not like I can do anything to help you and Dad. You know all of your stuff acts up around me."

It was Maddie's turn to sigh. "Well, if you would have listened to me and not interfered with the Portal we wouldn't have this problem."

Danny had to turn away as he bit back the desire to roll his eyes. His parents were brilliant, but how either of them could have accepted him shocking himself with the portal as the reason why their equipment immediately went insane around him left him at an utter loss. Granted, it was better than the truth. He didn't really want to explain to either of them that he was, technically, half dead. That was a conversation that he couldn't see ever going over well.

"I was only trying to help," he told her as he loaded the last suitcase into the RV. "But you guys need to get going before you hit the holiday traffic. You're never going to make it past Chicago before dinner if you don't go soon."

"Oh, Danny." Maddie reached out and pulled her only son into a hug. "I wish you would reconsider. I don't like the idea of leaving you home alone for Christmas."

Danny chuckled as he hugged her back. "I'm twenty years old, Mom, not twelve. I think I can manage a few weeks alone. Besides, Sam'll be back in town tomorrow and it's not like I'll be entirely alone."

"No parties and no sleepovers, young man," his father boomed from behind him. "I don't want to come back to little Danny's running around."

"Oh god, Dad. Thanks. We're not even dating." Danny could feel himself flushing red to the roots of his hair. "But you guys have to go, okay?"

It took another fifteen minutes of urging to get his parents into the assault vehicle and onto the road, but once they were gone Danny closed the door, locked it behind him, and collapsed against the steel reinforced wood. Christmas was going to be so peaceful without his parents arguing over Santa Claus and his origins, and Danny really wasn't up for it this year. He'd just finished his midterms for his second year and he already had the books for his new semester—he really needed to get a head start on his course work if he wanted to avoid having to retake anything.

Granted, though, his ghost issues had lessened severely. It had taken two years of searching for answers before Technus had finally taken pity on him and explained to him the rules of haunting, haunts, and his possession of Amity Park. Apparently having lived there for so long as a ghost had established it as his own territory, much like Skulker's island or Clockwork's tower, which gave him full legal permission according to ghost law (and not even Walker could argue it anymore) to evict any other spectral being with prejudice.

Granted, Danny was pretty decent about it; it wouldn't do to make too many enemies. He could barely handle the ones he'd made his first few years as a demighost, and Danny really needed all the help he could get sometimes.

But he could look forward to a slow, peaceful couple of weeks before school started again. And with Sam. Just Sam. Not that Danny didn't love his parents, Jazz and Tucker (in a completely manly best friend way) but—he loved Sam in a completely different way and he had the idea that it was about time he told her.

Especially since she seemed to be reciprocating, albeit in a demur and roundabout way. But he figured after spending so many years wanting her, it would be a fine thing to finally explain to her exactly what he wanted: her, in his life, in his heart, and most assuredly in his bed. Preferably with a shiny ring on her finger.

Said ring was actually in his dresser drawer upstairs, but Danny carefully steered his thoughts away from it. It would be a bit before he could broach that kind of commitment with her since they'd never actually been on a date or shared a real kiss.

He pulled out his cell as he headed for the kitchen, intent on finding something to eat that wouldn't try and eat him back. "Voice dial Tucker Foley," he commanded the phone as he opened the fridge. An immediate hiss greeted him.

"Danny, what up?" was Tucker's almost immediate greeting. "You said you were going to call me three hours ago."

"Would you believe I just got my parents out of the house?" Danny asked as he reached for a wooden spoon from the kitchen counter and poked the pink goo that was hissing. It hissed louder and Danny thumped it hard.

"Haven't I told you not to play with your food?" Tucker asked over the whimpering echoing within the fridge.

Danny laughed. "The fridge is a war zone." He bent closer to inspect the damage. The pink goo had, apparently, eaten everything from the plates and containers nearest it, suggesting that it had gained some ability to manipulate its form and create gelatinous projectiles as tools. "I think this one might be intelligent."

"Dude," Tucker chuckled, "why don't you take the chance to clean it out? And then try and sanitize the kitchen so this doesn't happened again? Well, soon," he amended. "It'll happen again, but you might get a few weeks of good, docile meals instead of things with teeth."

"Point taken. But anyway, they're gone. You still aren't coming, right?" Danny inquired as he carefully started pulling out empty dishes, and a few that weren't hissing but were actually humming. In tune. Together. He raised an eyebrow as he recognized the strains of _White Christmas_ emanating from the dish nearest his ear. Without further thought he turned, cell phone lodged firmly betwixt shoulder and ear, and dumped the creatures one by one down the sink and garbage disposal.

"Nope," was his friend's cheerful reply. "I get to man the lab for the next week. Then I'm going to hit the beach and work on my tan."

"And your lame pickup lines?" It was time to grab the intelligent life form; Danny wasn't looking forward to it. He grabbed a pair of his mother's oven mitts and pulled them on for defense.

"I would never," Tucker said sagely. "Besides, your sister is on the other coast."

Danny growled a little at his best friend's teasing. "You stay away from Jazz, Tuck. She's trapped with her fellow interns for the remainder of the year. We won't see her again till after May."

"I could always go visit."

If his hands hadn't been full of violently writhing goo monster Danny would have smacked a hand to his face. "If you dated her, I don't want to know. If you're still dating her, I still don't want to know. Please, I'm begging you," Danny pleaded.

The pink goo writhed suddenly and the phone dropped as he heaved the creature to the sink and started shoving it into the drain with the spoon. It growled, nearly roared, and Danny swore as he reached frantically for the switch to the disposal. It was climbing out when the grinder kicked in, spinning goo around as Danny jammed the spoon at it. The dying shrieks were painful on his eardrums, but he kept at it until the spoon itself was splintering and the noises were gone leaving nothing but the gurgling whir of the blades.

He turned the water on, running some around the sink before turning the disposal off and then the water. The phone, remembered now that imminent crisis was diverted, was on the floor behind him and Danny picked it up. "What the fuck was that?" Tucker was asking. Danny grinned wearily at the other man's anxious questioning.

"That, Tucker, was the intelligent life from my parents' fridge. That's the main reason why I have a minifridge in my room now."

"Jesus, Danny. Call an exterminator next time. And call Sam, you were supposed to call her right after—"

"Hold that thought, Tuck," Danny said as his phone beeped at him. He glanced at the caller ID. It was Sam and Danny felt no guilt as he prepared to hang up on Tucker. "Let me go, man, she's calling me."

"You have fun with that," Tucker teased him. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Good_bye_, Tucker," Danny said as he pressed the talk button. "Hey, Sam, I was just about to call you."

"Oh, god, it's terrible," was her immediate response.

"What's wrong?" He was suddenly alert—whenever Sam or Tucker told him it was terrible it was usually related to ghosts. Or his parents' food, which actually wasn't all that different.

"It's my parents." He could hear the frustration and nearly tears in her voice. "They're _here_!"

"What?" he demanded. "What are they doing there?"

"They had this brilliant idea to come visit me for Christmas. I could kill them. Danny, I can't come home."

**Choirs will be singing 'Silent Night'  
Christmas carols by candlelight  
Please come home for Christmas  
Please come home for Christmas**

**If not for Christmas, by New Years night**

He could hear the random chatter of the hospital loudspeaker through the phone as Jazz sighed impatiently at him. "Her parents are just freaks, Danny. And I don't just insult people like that. But they still think that you're in a gang, for god's sake!"

"I know!" He raked his hands through his hair. "I don't know what the hell they were thinking. I _needed_ her to be here this Christmas."

"I know," Jazz said dryly. "I helped you pick out the ring. Though you probably should have asked her out at least once before you bought it."

He laughed helplessly. "I know, but I wanted to be prepared. You know, just in case."

"No, Gary, it's my brother. Family emergency," Jazz hissed to the side. She was going to have to go shortly, Danny knew, but he needed to talk to her for just a minute. Tucker could commiserate, but Jazz would talk him down from his anger in ways Tucker couldn't even begin to.

"I'm going to have to soon, Danny," she told him after a moment.

"I know. You're the one who decided you wanted to try internal medicine," he pointed out. "And to get an internship with that psychopath doctor you adore so much."

"Oh, hush." She giggled, which reassured him that she wasn't as stressed as she sounded. "Dr. House is brilliant, he really is, and everyone thinks he actually thinks I'll be decent one day."

"Of course you will," Danny agreed.

"You could always go visit her for a couple of days," Jazz offered. "New York City is only a couple of hours by plane. I'm sure I could get you a ticket on short notice."

Danny started shaking his head even though she couldn't see it. "You know I can't leave Amity, especially with Mom and Dad down in Maryland right now."

"They would pick now to check out that haunting," she groused. "Not even for a couple of days?"

"It'd be a free for all without me to keep all of the ghosts in check."

"Damn."

He agreed, but refrained from saying so. "I guess I can wait till spring break. It's kept since summer, I'll keep till then. She sounded at least as upset as I am."

"That's something." The loudspeaker echoed through the phone paging Dr. Fenton and Jazz cursed like a seasoned sailor. "I have to go, Danny. House wants me in his office, we have a new patient presenting."

"Go, go," he ushered her. "Call me tomorrow."

It was her new habit to not even say goodbye, just to hang up, but Danny wasn't bothered by it. He still had to finish decorating the tree and getting lights up on the Op Center. Sam should have been here to help him. Damn her parents. Damn the ghosts. Damn it all. He was almost vicious as he plunged his hands into the stiff limbs of the fake tree, trying to shape them the way his mother always insisted they be. He had to admit, she was right; her trees always looked vaguely real. Right now it just looked like garbage.

It took him almost an hour to get the tree looking more lifelike and his hands were covered in scrapes from the harsh artificial leaves when he was done. But he could start hanging decorations, which was an improvement to the tree with each item added.

He tried not to give in to the depression of being alone. Or at least of being deprived of Sam. It didn't really work, but there wasn't much he could do about it. It wasn't even her fault. Even if she'd scored a full scholarship to NYU, her parents still paid her rent, her groceries, and gave her the chance to focus her energy on her classes and her activist hobbies that she still worked in.

But still, she wasn't here with him, and that rankled. He wished he could be there with her, but it just wasn't going to happen. The moment he stepped foot past the city limits the taint that colored the ectoplasmic atmosphere of the city started to fade. And sure, it didn't hurt to escape the city for a few hours at a time. Even a full day. But after a full day?

No, that wasn't going to be a wise thing. Skulker would still be hunting him left and right if Amity weren't his haunt. Not to mention the dozens of other ghosts that would wreak havoc should he disappear to another state for days on end. And he'd be too far away to zip back as he sometimes had to do between classes.

By the time he'd finished going over all of the reasons why he couldn't just go to Sam Danny was finished with the tree. Another hour and a half of reasoning out why she couldn't abandon her parents to New York gave him the chance to untangle all of the Christmas lights. Bolstered by virgin eggnog Danny finally set out to string them around the building and the Op Center. As it was, without his parents and with the cover of darkness, he could do them using his ghost powers which was far safer than the ladder his father always pulled out.

The last time Danny had done that he'd fallen off and broken his wrist. While it had been nice to have Sam coddling him for weeks until the cast came off, Danny really didn't enjoy having a broken bone. Especially when it healed too quickly for proper explanation.

As he finished he glanced up at the sky gauging the weather. It would snow before morning—good thing he was finished with the lights. He wouldn't have to try clearing snow from everything to get them up. It posed no real hazard, but it was damned cold on the hands.

When he made it back inside he grabbed a packet of instant cocoa and his cell. There were thirty-four missed calls, every last one of them from Sam.

He hit the dial back as he heated water, eager to hear her voice. "Hey," he greeted her. "I was out putting the lights up. I didn't have my phone with me."

She sounded down. "I wish I could have been there to help."

"Nah," he tried for easy contentment in his voice. He thought he did it pretty well. "You would have frozen. And besides, I was flying most of the time."

"I could have brought you hot chocolate."

Now he smiled ruefully. Sam made the best hot chocolate, but almost anything was better than watered down Swiss Miss. "That would have been nice."

"I'm sorry, Danny," she whispered. "I wish I could be there."

"Yeah, me too. But it'll be alright. I'll see you at Spring Break, so it won't be until summer like last year."

He listened to her dismayed sigh. "I already had my ticket and everything. Mom doesn't understand why I'm so mad. Dad's just hitting the eggnog and ignoring her. Grams keeps telling them both they're idiots."

"They are." His voice was flat. He didn't mean for it to be but he was pretty furious with the Manson's right now for fucking up his Christmas plans. He was supposed to tell her how he was in love with her. Instead he was talking to her while she was half a country away.

"I miss you," she told him quietly. Then she hastily added, "I mean, I miss Tucker, too. But I miss you."

He smiled a little at that. "I know what you mean, Sam. I miss you, too."

**Friends and relations send salutations  
Sure as the stars shine above  
But this is Christmas  
Yeah, Christmas, my dear  
It's the time of year to be with the one you love**

"Samantha, it's rude of you to take this call in the middle of lunch," Pamela Manson's voice grated into Danny's ear from the phone line.

"Get off the phone, Mother," Sam screeched. "Freaking hell, you can't just pick up the phone while I'm in the middle of a private conversation!"

Danny winced now, the shrill of Sam's voice piercing. The argument that ensued was nearly as bad as realizing that Sam's mother had been listening in. Granted, they'd only been talking for a minute, two at the most, and most of that was stilted because Sam was… uptight. But her mother was there antagonizing her, so Danny couldn't blame her, especially when Sam had to suffer with her parents' refusal to rent a hotel room. There were, as her mother liked to point out, three rooms in the apartment.

Danny sided with Sam, though. He couldn't deny the fact that he pretty much hated her mother. And sometimes her father, when he wasn't pitying the man for being nagged to death by his shrew of a wife.

It was the story of his day; Christmas Eve and no one really had time to talk to him. Jazz was back on rotation with her ass of a department head, and Tucker was fretting over letting someone else baby sit the petri dishes with his especially engineered nanobots. His mother and father hadn't even answered the phone—all he got from them was a message about the ghost they were hunting and warnings to avoid singing Christmas carols.

_Too late for that one,_ he thought with a sigh as he recalled the goo creature he'd supposedly slaughtered without mercy days before. Between the hisses that still sometimes floated up from the pipes and the eerie caroling all through the basement (Danny assumed that was from the humming containers) it was enough for Danny to wish he _were_ actually being haunted. Instead he was just annoyed. And a little hurt.

But he wasn't about to tell Sam that; she had enough on her plate without him adding to it.

There was a loud click and sudden silence startled him. "Sam?" he asked hesitantly, wondering if in her haste to get her mother off of the phone she'd hung up on him altogether.

"I'm still here," she answered almost immediately.

"I can let you go," he offered, not really wanting to.

"Yeah," she answered. "I need to deal with this and take care of some stuff. I'll call you soon."

He never even got the chance to say goodbye as the dial tone hummed at him through his cell. He sighed and tried not to think about it too hard. Maybe she hadn't been eager to hang up, maybe her mother was standing at her shoulder. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Maybe he'd just read it all wrong and she didn't really feel the same way. Maybe the ring in his drawer was just a waste of time, money and effort. Yeah, probably. He scuffed his feet along the floor as he went in search of something to take his mind off of it all. Jazz was still at the hospital—his earlier conversation with her had been nearly as short and with an even more abrupt ending than his call with Sam. However, he had gotten to call her boss, this Dr. House, and asshole to his ear when he snatched Jazz's phone, admonishing her about talking to her boyfriend when she was supposed to be getting his coffee.

Maybe Danny should try packing it in and going to haunt the guy. But Jazz was insistent that he was an asshole to everyone, equally, and it didn't mean he despised her. Ah, well, he could always make her the offer.

His phone rang and Danny answered it as he inspected the now clean and completely human friendly fridge before pulling out a bottle of store made eggnog and the makings for a sandwich. "Hi, Mom," he greeted her.

"Hi, Sweetie, how's the house?"

"It's still standing, I haven't burned it down and there's not ghosts currently haunting it." Which was marginally true because Danny haunted the entire township. "And just so we're clear, the singing in the water pipes is _not_ my fault."

Maddie laughed on the other end. "I'm not even going to ask about that one. You father wanted to know if you'd told Sam yet."

He closed his eyes for a moment before transferring everything from the fridge to the counter. "I thought I'd told you guys; Sam isn't coming. Her parents decided to go see her instead."

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," Maddie said. Then she yelled, "Jack, do _not_ touch that, it's moving! Danny, sweetie, I have to go, your father's about to—"

There was a click and then the dial tone again. He stared at his phone for a second before thumbing the end button and then mashing it to turn the cell off. He really didn't want to talk to anyone now.

He made it through two sandwiches, the entire half gallon of eggnog, three cookies, a patrol around the city, a mock snowball fight (alright, he was only dropping snowballs on Dash while flying invisibly above him) and half of an episode of _Ghost Whisperer_ before the amusement factor became too much and he had to stop. Jennifer Love Hewitt was hot and all, but honestly he thought the show was a riot.

That was about the time he glanced at the still powered down cell phone and realized that it had been hours. Maybe if he called her now…

He'd already turned the phone on and started dialing before he really realized what he was doing. Maybe he was going to look like a pathetic loser for calling her again already but Danny didn't really care. He just really wanted to talk to Sam. But naturally the imp of the perverse was paying attention, because it wasn't Sam who answer the phone. It was her mother.

"Hi, Mrs. Manson, is Sam there?" He maintained the polite composure that he used like armor with the woman, hoping that she wouldn't cause any problems and would just pass the phone to her daughter.

"Daniel Fenton?" she asked nastily. "Samantha isn't here. And don't call back, she won't want to talk then, either."

This time the phone was slammed down, the crash of plastic on plastic making his ear smart as he ended the call. That was when he saw the missed call notice flash. Twenty-seven missed calls. Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam, Tucker, Sam, Sam Sam SamSamSam. Oh hell. No wonder she didn't want to talk to him. He started dialing her cell only to be greeted immediately by her voicemail.

He tried again and then again before resigning himself to the knowledge that her phone was turned off. Sam had let her mother answer her phone at her apartment, had turned her cell off so he had no direct access to her. and it really looked like she wanted it that way.

What a great way to spend Christmas Eve.

**So won't you tell me you'll never more roam  
Christmas and New Year will find you home  
There be no more sorrow, no grief and pain  
And I'll be happy, happy, once again**

He spent most of his evening wandering around the park knee deep in snow, making ice statues with his powers and doubting anyone would ever think that a ghost had left them there for no reason. It was… a distraction, which was really all he could hope for at this point. Anything more than would require a disaster (or Sam calling back) and honestly? He doubted that was going to happen.

So instead he did that. It was easier this way, he decided after his umpteenth ice star. There were reasons, lots of good, strong, undeniable reasons. Yeah, they were all lame reasons, just excuses for him to try and convince himself that he wasn't feeling as if the world had fallen over on him.

It might not have been so bad if his parents had been there, or Tucker or Jazz. Tucker would try and amuse the hell out of him and Jazz would spout of the psychobabble she was still so fond of until he was so annoyed he wasn't constantly thinking about it. But he was alone.

He leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. They were still cold from where he'd been touching the ice sculptures he'd made, but Danny paid it no mind as he tried to soothe away the headache that was building. He'd need to take some aspirin at this rate, something he rarely did, but it couldn't be helped. Or maybe he could go dig out his dad's stash of Jameson's and snag a finger or two.

_It has to be after midnight,_ he thought after a bit, leaning back on the bench as the cold and wet of the snow seeped through his jeans. He wondered idly if that made it officially Christmas day for him, or if technically it was still Christmas Eve because he hadn't yet gone to bed.

Danny had just about decided it was still Christmas Eve for him when the crunch of shoes on snow caught his attention. His head swiveled to the left, eyes searching for whoever it could be, and his jaw dropped when he found Sam there, making steady tracks through the snow to him.

"Do you think you could pick a new place to brood, Danny?" she asked him as she finally came even with the bench. "Maybe someplace warm and tropical? Or at least indoors."

The humorous plea in her voice snapped him out of the daze he was in and he scrambled to his feet. "What're you doing here, Sam? You're in New York!"

She snorted and flipped her fingers at the air with disdain. "No, I'm _supposed_ to be here. With you. My parents just didn't get the memo, so now they can enjoy New York by themselves."

He sighed as he reached for her, arms wrapping around her. She was warm and solid as he held her, a proper reminder that she was actually there and he hadn't finally lost what little mind he had. She was perfect, from the black faux leather of her boots to the tasseled hat she was wearing; he could smell her pomegranate shampoo even through the knitting. It was like home.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer when you called," she said into his shoulder, her voice muffled. He pulled back but didn't let her go. "I was in the air and you know how they hate cell phones up there."

"I talked to your mom," Danny said to her, thinking back to that brief conversation. "You know I hate her, right?"

Sam's eyes narrowed. "You tried calling me? And she talked to you?" He nodded, suddenly apprehensive about Sam's demeanor. "I'm going to poison her," Sam said flatly. "Something slow and painful. I called her when I landed and she said no one had called."

"Bitch," he muttered. "I called. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have turned off my phone. I was just aggravated—I kept getting hung up on." He flushed as he realized what he just said but Sam only hugged him again.

"I was short with you, I was arguing with Mom over coming home to see you."

"Oh. She must not have liked it."

"Nope," Sam replied cheerfully. "I don't care in the least. I wanted to be here. I wanted to be with you."

It warmed him to hear her say that and he held her tighter. "You have no idea how much this means to me," he breathed against her neck, his face just where her jacket left it bare. She had goose bumps—for some reason Danny didn't think they were all from the cold.

She pulled back suddenly, her eyes burning darkly into his. "Danny," she started, but he didn't let her finish as he leaned down to press his mouth to hers in a soft kiss. She went stiff in his arms and Danny let go of her, stepping back, he just knew he'd messed up, he'd read it wrong, and aw hell he'd just ruined the friendship.

And then Sam reached out to him, fingers white knuckled tight on his jackets, and hauled him back to her. And kissed _him_.

Okay, so maybe he'd read it right Danny decided as she tilted her head back. Her hat fell backwards in a pomegranate cloud, the warmth escaping just making the shampoo smell stronger. Danny lifted his hands to bury them in her hair, the short locks silken on his fingers. He felt her shiver against him—his hands were still like ice, he knew—but she pressed herself closer to him for warmth.

She was the first to stop, to pull back and rest her forehead against his. It wasn't surprising; he was half dead, he didn't need oxygen as much as she did. But this? This was good too, because she was still holding on to him, and if he really wanted to he could close the distance between their mouths again.

"Danny," she said again, her eyes still closed. "There's no one I'd rather spend Christmas with."

He smiled as her eyes opened and he did lean in to kiss her again, gently, almost chaste. "Hopefully every Christmas, then."

She smiled. "And New Years, and Fourth of July, and Halloween—"

He cut her off with another kiss. Yeah. He had a good feeling about that ring in his dresser.

**Ooh, there be no more sorrow  
No grief and pain  
And I'll be happy, Christmas, once again**


End file.
